


Sweetheart Come

by LinearA



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Cuckolding, F/M, Homoerotic Jealousy, Jealousy, Masturbation, Obsession, Rape Fantasy, abusive language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 14:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14021838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinearA/pseuds/LinearA
Summary: In the future he will not be weak; he will not be the one standing there as someone else takes his girl and he is powerless to stop it.





	Sweetheart Come

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Sweetheart Come](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14070630) by [Tersie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tersie/pseuds/Tersie)



> Absolutely not kidding around with the archive warning.

He knows she knows he’s there; he always knows when she is. But she ignores him. That’s been her tactic now for weeks. That’s fine. That’s fine with him; he doesn’t need her attention. And the more she forces herself to act normally, as if he weren’t there, the more he learns about her normal life. He can only assume she doesn’t realize what valuable strategic information this is. She even talks to other people, letting him know which rebels survive, and who is with her.

 

Today she’s with the pilot. Kylo Ren sits in his quarters and listens, stone-faced, knowing she could turn and see him listening, if she wanted to. If she’d deign to. He can’t hear Dameron’s side of the conversation, naturally, but hers is clear.

 

“Of course I know what I’m doing.” Something technical, then, most likely, and the pilot is doubting her. She should sound more irritated, to be doubted. Who is Dameron to question her? But she sounds amused. Forgiving.

 

Dameron says something else, at which Rey rolls her eyes. “They may be obscure to _you_. I’ve broken this model into a thousand parts a dozen times; I know how it goes together again.” Ship mechanics, then; they must be preparing older models of ship for use. He’ll have inquiries made, where there might be older stock –

 

“I’m not your sweetheart, Poe. Save it for BB-8.” Dameron called her _sweetheart_. She should be furious. He should see her step across to the air where he must be, hand raised and face dark. But she’s smiling. Her voice is light, maybe even fond. “There’s nothing _sweet_ about me.”

 

Dameron’s response is short, and Kylo _knows_ , he’s sure he knows what he’s said; he must have said, “I disagree.” And Rey smiles; the leather of Kylo’s gloves creases and creaks as he clenches his fists, and she says, still smiling, “Well. That’s your mistake.” She turns away, from him and Dameron both, and the look on her face, the shy flattered smile, is intolerable. Unacceptable.

 

He’s on his feet. His face is hot, his mouth is twisted. He never speaks to her, not when she’s ignoring him like this. And he won’t now. But –

 

The connection breaks.

 

He turns away. Throws his chair to the ground. Sends a datapad flying from one corner of the room to the other. Paces, his steps heavy and his breathing hard.

 

He hates them. He’ll kill them. He’ll crush them. He’ll do worse. He’ll enjoy doing worse.

 

He’ll have them taken alive. He remembers Dameron at his mercy, under his power; he’ll put him there again. In the chair, just like before, stretched out helpless and restrained. Not quick with a quip, now, not even trying to smile or be brave. Not when Kylo stands before him, holding Rey by the throat as she trembles, and slowly, deliberately stripping off her clothes.

 

She’ll try to defy him. Of course she will. But he’ll show her in her mind how quickly he could kill her handsome little _sweetheart_ , how badly he could hurt him, and she’ll fall silent. Let him tear away all her wrappings and bindings, all the crossed and convoluted cloth she draws around herself to keep her safe.

 

Dameron will thrash, of course. He’ll shout himself hoarse and strain against the restraints on his arms and ankles. But Kylo will smile and turn Rey around to face him, let the other man see her frightened face. See Kylo strip his gloves off one by one and puts his hands – he knows they’re larger than Dameron’s – on her little breasts.

 

They’re alike in some ways, Rey and the pilot. Slim-hipped and graceful, with skin that sees the sun and bright, defiant eyes. Rey’s mouth is an innocent mouth, though, gentle and pink. Dameron’s mouth is wicked. Dameron’s red mouth makes promises without words. Kylo will never let him keep them.

 

“Look at your hero,” he’ll tell her as he touches her. He’ll touch her hard and slowly. Crush her against his body. Make her afraid of what comes next. “Do you think he can save you?” Rey won’t answer that; she’ll be too loyal, but he’ll know; he’ll see it clearly in her mind. “She knows you can’t, Dameron. She knows I can do whatever I want, and you can’t stop me.”

 

He’ll push her down on her hands and knees. “All you can do,” he’ll sneer, meeting Dameron’s burning eyes as he unclasps his belt, “is _watch.”_

 

(Because in the future he will not be weak; he will not be the one standing there as someone else takes her and he is powerless to stop it. He lies down on his bed, touches himself slowly, grimly, determined to squeeze all the savage pleasure he can out of these thoughts.)

 

He’ll go down on his own knees behind Rey. He’ll run his bare hands over her naked back and legs, take his time, arrange her how he wants her. He’ll open his pants and watch her shoulders tense. Feel her speaking in his mind: _Stop. Stop. Don’t do this._

 

“Out loud,” he’ll say, as he spreads her with his fingers. “Say it. Let him hear you.”

 

“Don't do this,” she’ll whisper, and that’s when he’ll push into her, hard, as hard as he can. And they’ll both scream, Rey and Dameron; Rey will bite her lip and try to stifle hers but he’ll feel the bright red shriek of her pain. Dameron will throw himself against his restraints and bellow, an open-throated roar of rage and suffering, his muscles taut with effort.

 

She’ll be so tight and so soft; she’ll feel so good. He’ll groan and throw his head back, holding tight to her hips; let Dameron see his enjoyment as he thrusts. And Rey will whimper underneath him; he won’t be gentle with her.

 

(She’s a slut; she stroked his hand with her fingers and told him he’d never be alone and then she’d turned around and let Dameron, lithe little Dameron with his swagger and his curling hair, call her sweetheart and make her smile. She deserves to be punished for hurting him like this.)

 

“It hurts her,” he’ll say, almost panting with his pleasure as Dameron snarls and fights in vain to free himself. “Doesn’t it, Rey? It hurts you to take my cock like this.” She’ll put her head down, try to hide, but he won’t stop. “My cock’s too big for you; it hurts your little cunt to take it.” He’ll give Dameron another sneering smile. He’ll be a proper monster to them both. “She feels so good, Dameron; she’s so tight. You were right; she’s _sweet.”_

 

(He moans to himself. She would be; she would be so sweet. He feels like he’s in pain, but his pleasure is so strong he’s seeing white. His brain feels like a damaged machine, arcing, showering hot sparks. He’ll get them; he’ll get them; he will.)

 

He’ll slow his strokes into her, push in deep and relish the way she’ll feel his size. Look down and see how stretched she is, how she struggles to take him. And he’ll look up to Dameron and see his strained face, and the way his body’s moving now, not pulling with his arms against the bindings but pushing his hips out, grinding against nothing, the clear swell of his cock in his too-tight pants.

 

Kylo will wrap Rey’s hair around his hand and pull her head up, make her look. He’ll lean down into her, by her ear, letting her feel some of his weight as he fucks her. “He likes this. See? See how hard he’s gotten, watching me punish you with my cock? He likes to see me hurt you. You think he’s better than I am? He’s loving this.”

 

“Rey – no – I never – I don’t – ” Dameron will try to choke out denials, but his hips won’t stop their helpless little thrusts, desperate for even the tiny friction of his pants, and the hard curve of his cock will stand out even clearer. And Rey will sob, with pain and betrayal, and he’ll pull her head around to kiss her, one eye on the pilot as he moans.

 

(Because Dameron isn’t different from him; he’s sure of it. Dameron is just less honest. But Kylo will make him admit it, make him show Rey that he’s made of flesh and violence, just like Kylo is.)

 

“When do you think he’ll come?” he’ll say against her mouth. “When I do? Or when you do?” He’ll let her hair go and her arms will buckle and she’ll fall to her elbows, and he’ll groan for the change of angle on his cock. And then he’ll straighten up, catch Dameron’s eye again, and show him his teeth. “She’s getting wet. Can you hear the sound her cunt is making?” Dameron will moan again and look away, and Kylo will close his eyes and enjoy the sound of her wetness and the slick suction of her.

 

He’ll open his eyes again to find Dameron staring again, hot eyes wet and flicking helplessly between Rey and Kylo before coming to rest, mesmerized, on the point where Kylo’s cock is forcing its way into Rey, again and again. The lump in his neck will jump, and his hips will move hard against the air, a thrust with a twist in it that Kylo will imitate. Then Rey will whimper, her face to the floor, and Kylo will grab her hair again, drag her head up and start to ride her faster.

 

“Do you like this?” he’ll ask her.

 

“No,” she’ll moan, “no, no, no.”

 

“Liar,” he’ll spit, and he’ll meet Dameron’s eyes again, match him fire for fire. “If she told you she loved you, she lied. She doesn’t love anyone. She deserves this and she knows it.” He’ll tighten his hand in Rey’s hair, and order her, “Tell me. Tell me to stop.”

 

“Stop,” she’ll say, her voice wavering. “Stop; you’re hurting me.”

 

“Beg me,” he’ll hiss, and then she’ll say it, just as quiet and broken as he did.

 

“Please.”

 

“ _No._ Now come for me, _sweetheart_ , come.”

 

And she will, shuddering; she’ll come on his cock and he’ll look to Dameron, but Dameron will still be struggling, gasping, until Kylo says, “I’m going to come. I’m going to come inside her. Watch her. Watch me make her take it.” And he and Dameron will come together, Dameron in his pants and him in the hot clench of Rey’s body, his fingers digging bruises in her hips as he gives her the last brutal thrusts.

 

And he really does come, then, alone on his bed in his quarters, so hard it shakes him, and in the tumult of it he hears Rey’s voice say _sweet,_ _sweet,_ _so sweet,_ and sees the pout of Poe Dameron’s mouth, and why does the word _heartbroken_ come to him? But he doesn’t have time to even look down and see what a mess he’s made of himself when he hears the rushing sound of his connection to Rey and all he can do before she appears is roll over on his stomach and bury his face in his pillow.

 

He expects to have to wait there while she ignores him, but she stops still. He hears her breathing close to him; his stomach sinks with dread and self-loathing, and it only gets worse when her voice is gentle –

 

“Ben? Ben are you all right?”

 

He clamps his mouth shut on the spring of babble that wells up in him – _I never would, I wouldn’t but you hurt me, I wouldn’t but I should, you hurt me and you can’t so I want to, I have to, you hurt me –_ but that’s all the control he can exercise; he feels the tears gathering in his eyes and the sob beginning in his chest, and he is so drained now, of rage and pride and shame, that he just lets himself cry, there under her eyes, until the connection breaks and he’s alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> Softboi romantics have rape fantasies too. All things considered, that time he had an entire village slaughtered was probably worse.
> 
> (Edited to add: title comes from the hypergraphic writing of Emma Hauck, who wrote the phrase obsessively on letters that were never sent.)


End file.
